


'Cause lately I've not been about pretending

by crisantas



Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018)
Genre: (anyway how do i use this website pls help), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, NSFW, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, goyo as the indefatigable flirt, ilyong thinks he kissed ironically, im so sorry, sure jan, thats just how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisantas/pseuds/crisantas
Summary: The two are having a staring contest. People are worried. Neither of them is blinking.Until Goyo leans over to kiss Ilyong.





	'Cause lately I've not been about pretending

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on [this prompt,](https://twitter.com/_YourOTP_/status/1055978376555507712/) but sex instead of laughter.
> 
> -
> 
> I could not have imagined posting smut as my first story, but here we are. 
> 
> The title comes from the song "Inertia" by Brother Moses.

The whole thing happened like this: It started as a party game. And _everyone_ knows that Goyo has been flirting with Ilyong for months but the man hates his guts (or so he says), so might as well make them join a staring contest and get it over with.

Except no one is batting an eyelash for minutes now. At first the crowd cheered and whistled, knowing full well only one of them is relishing the opportunity, but they saw how both are palpably determined not to lose. Ilyong, most especially, whose fists are clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. Goyo, on the other hand, has his hands in his pockets, shoulders languid, a smile not fading from his lips.

They were starting to worry, but someone said that it’s probably best to leave them alone, and that they’re used to this dynamic at this point.

So they went back to their drinking and chatting and dancing, leaving the two in a corner.

 

 

Neither of them is blinking.  
Until Goyo leans down to kiss Ilyong.

Which took the other man by surprise. He blinks twice. Then another. Then another.  
“ABA GAGO—”  
Goyo kisses him again. “Kada salita mo, hahalikan kita.”

His eyes says mischief, and that’s not good news for Ilyong. Never is. Except—

Ilyong grabs Goyo by the neck and kisses him full in the mouth. Forceful and hungry and wet. Goyo laughs against Ilyong’s lips.

“Bakit ka tumatawa?!” asks Ilyong, the classic scowl showing itself again.  
“Ikaw kasi eh…”  
“Ano’ng _ako_?”  
“Aayaw-ayaw ka pa eh,” Goyo says with his sly smile. He knew he won this time.  
“Shut the fuck up.”

Then Ilyong kisses him harder, his fingers grabbing Goyo’s hair.

 

 

All the other people in the party had left, stunned and embarrassed. Not that they both mind. If anything, it pleased Goyo even more. Ilyong, ever conscious of how the other man reacts, takes this as an offense at his performance. He bites Goyo’s lip in annoyance.

“Aray! Ano ba—”  
“NANGGIGIGIL NA AKO SA ‘YO, AH.”  
Goyo’s smile grew even wider. “Ituloy mo lang. Gigil pala, ah...”  
“‘Tang ina, shut up nga!”  
“OK.”  
And in one smooth move, he carries Ilyong to the bedroom.

 

 

He carries him towards the room, not even taking a second to stop kissing him, if we’re being honest. It feels like they're still fighting... but _man_ how they fight with their tongues.

The heat is intense now, their shirts sticking to their backs, and Goyo wants to take off—rip, if needed—their clothes as soon as possible, goddammit.

So kissing Ilyong is the only way to shut him up then? He should have done this sooner.

They reach the bed and he _throws_ the other man on it, who was visibly shaken but not so much as to not want it. He can see that his eyes grew darker somehow, as if desire has taken over him but which he cannot put into words. Goyo is alright with that, as long as they both want _this_ , this elephant in the room that they finally managed to address.

Ever so promptly, he goes on top of Ilyong as the other guy fumbles on his belt and jeans while looking at him straight in the eye. _Oh god_. He’s _so, so_ eager to start. Goyo can’t help but smile at that, while their breaths go hotter and heavier.

This is the fastest that Goyo has removed his and the other person’s clothes, and that’s something. With all the people he has slept with, he finds himself more aggressive than ever—

Ilyong pushes him to his back and pins his arms above his head. He grunts, taken by surprise. Smirking, he shifts his weight to straddle Goyo. They grunt.

Wait. Goyo has always been top and—

 _Jesus Christ, that's good._ He can’t say he doesn’t like this helplessness, this sudden turn of events. From his position, he can clearly see beads of sweat on Ilyong’s forehead, but the other man looks unwaveringly determined.

Surely this doesn't seem like his first time...?

 

 

Ilyong watches Goyo groan under him, trying to free himself from the restrain. His head is pushed back, exposing his red-blotched neck where Ilyong kissed and bit him. There is an obvious bruise starting to form. _God, yes._  

He straddles harder.

“Please, I—” Goyo says under his breath.  
Ilyong shushes him. “Hindi pwede. Paparusahan muna kita.”  
Goyo groans louder.

It was a view. Goyo’s body is smooth and tender and _glorious_. Mouth open with need, lips swollen and barely taking it.  
So much to the other man’s audible protests, Ilyong slowly kisses his ear, then his jaw, then his collarbone—

“Ilyong, I swear to god…” Goyo begs again.  
“What's that?”  
"P-please..."  
Ilyong leans in to whisper in Goyo’s ear, so close that his wet lips touch the other man’s earlobe just right to tease him more. “‘Di ba sabi ko paparusahan muna kita?”

 

 

He’s almost… crying? He has never plead like this in his life. Every woman and man he ever wooed resigned themselves to his hands and mouth.

It’s a pleasurable kind of torture. After this, he can’t say this isn’t his best. So he accepts his fate as he feels his own body shivering from Ilyong’s touch. The other man then resumes to kiss his chest, his bellybutton, his pelvic bone...

_Oh god. Yes. Finally._

By then, the hands holding down his arms got looser, so he took this chance to hold Ilyong’s head and push him lower—

But he took Goyo’s long, sharp inhale and strong grasp on his head to mean more teasing. He opens his mouth and leisurely traces the length of Goyo's hard cock with his wet, warm tongue, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“AH—! Fuck. Emilio—!”  
As if smiling from this validation, Ilyong flicks his tongue at the head of Goyo’s—

The room echoes every broken gasp, every shift of the sheets.

_Yes. Dear god._

 

 

Ilyong continues to tease Goyo. Sloppier and sloppier this time, his hand growing sticky with precum as the other man curses him, his face reddening by the minute.

“Suck me, please,” Goyo pleads, and he’s panting. They’re panting.  
“No,” he answers, a sly smile on his lips.  
“Emilio, putang ina PLEASE—”

He takes Goyo’s balls to his mouth and he loses it.

Sure, he has seen other men’s eyes rolling back when he does that, but there is a different kind of triumph to see Gregorio del Pilar helpless in his own hands.

 

 

Goyo’s hips arched, his toes curled back, his fingers clinging tightly onto a mess of Ilyong’s hair, and his moans... every bit of him submitted themselves to Ilyong. Finally.

“Emilio, hindi ko na k-kaya—”

Goyo was something short of writhing on the bed and Ilyong knows he was close to his limit, but he's not going to let him.

“Sshh, bawal. Maaga pa.”

Ilyong knows he has the upperhand. Writhing under his weight, he knows he can do whatever he wants with Goyo. This airhead, this playboy, this pain in the ass son of a bitch finally shows his most vulnerable. And to _him_ , among others.

It's a privilege to make him beg.

 

 

After what felt like hours of rubbing and teasing, Goyo watches as Ilyong takes him to his mouth.

_Jesus._

He bit his lip to stifle his moan. Ilyong’s is warm and wet.

Goyo shudders when he feels the tight opening of Ilyong’s throat, taking him all in.

 

 

Goyo’s whimpering now, and Ilyong is enjoying how this scene is playing out. He then makes his tongue travel lower to lick Goyo gently and gently until it turns into a rim.

“‘Wag—!” Goyo shrieks.

Ilyong doesn't stop. Even takes it as cue to suck Goyo, _finally_ suck him—fast and needy and growling; his other hand grabbing the man’s thigh tighter.

So Goyo, despite all attempts to hold it in, comes undone.

The room is full of his voice and Ilyong knows he can listen to it every day.

 

 

He swallows Goyo's cum. Hell, he _drinks_ it, takes in this wave of desire. He doesn't stop until the other man sinks back to the bed after moaning his name. Again.

Then comes an ease. Goyo’s hands in his hair loosen their grip and their bodies relaxed to a synchronized hum.

Satisfied, Ilyong wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Then kisses the other’s hipbone before propping himself on his side to smirk at Goyo—or what’s left of him.

Goyo is breathing heavily. Exasperated, he looks at Ilyong and sees his proud smile. He winces, suddenly embarrassed how he lost himself.

Ilyong is bemused. “Ikaw ah...”  
“Ano na naman...” He’s too tired to keep up with their (apparently) loving bickering. Not when he’s spent like this.  
“Wala...” he replies, brushing Goyo's hair away from his face.

Goyo can see his smirk soften to a smile.

They stayed there, silent. The afternoon light seeping through the curtains, touching their feet.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is co-written by my friend [AstridStews](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridStews/) (or [@anglqt](https://twitter.com/anglqt/) on Twitter), who:  
> \- turned the wholesome prompt to something dirty  
> \- was the one who got me into writing fics for this fandom (and writing fics in general, at that)
> 
> Your help is invaluable, sis. ilu
> 
> Come follow us on Twitter: @leogurskysss, @anglqt


End file.
